


(we can't) make this right

by shuturmullet



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, I need a hug, Ten Years Later, and some chocolate, i don't know man this is just a bunch of sadness, implied previous relationship, just plangst, lol this is so messy, not edited, plangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 11:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14055834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuturmullet/pseuds/shuturmullet
Summary: out of context plangst





	(we can't) make this right

**Author's Note:**

> what happens when you're in the middle of a study session and plangst feels hit you harder than a punch?  
> you write it down, of course.
> 
> I have no idea what this is, so please be patient with me.

_"I think I'm in love with you."_

_"You think, or you know? There's a huge difference, there, in case you haven't noticed."_

_"That's just semantics." He steals a kiss and she smiles against his mouth._

_"I think I'm in love with you, too."_

_"You think, or you know?"_

_"I'll let you know as soon as I find out."_

_"I hope you'll find out soon, then."_

_"We have time."_

_"Yes, we do."_

 

* * *

 

 

He looks at her, she looks away, as if they’re playing a game.

In some ways, it is a game. Only a not very pleasant one. 

Her hair has gotten lighter during the years, her bangs cut nicely above her brow.

There is something familiar in the way she’s braided it around her head, something that reminds him of easiest times and magical lions and foreign planets.

Something that now seems far, far, way too far away.

He needed to see her.

He wonders why she even accepted to meet him, considering she doesn't seem happy to be here. 

He’d love to compliment her, to tell her she’s become even more beautiful, but he knows he shouldn’t.

They were sitting in this exact same spot, the last time he saw her.

When they’d opened up their scarred hearts, pouring mutual fears in the same box and decided that, whatever had happened in space, should stay in space.

A waiter excuses himself as he places their order in front of them And something settles beneath his breastbone like a spikeand leaves with a nod of his head.

Even this place, the diner they’re sitting at, has changed since the last time he’s been here.

Now, they serve expensive and foreign types of coffee, and the place doesn’t smell like mushrooms, anymore.

What he means is that it doesn’t feel much like home, anymore.

He’d love to tell her that, too.

But he knows he shouldn’t, so for now, he doesn’t.

 

* * *

 

 

_"Where do you see youself in, let's say, ten years?"_

_"Do we really have to have this conversation, right now, Lance?"_

_"What's wrong with it?"_

_"We're in the middle of a Galra attack."_

_"I'm trying to light up the mood and - Pidge, on your left!"_

_An explosion and the signal goes weaker for a moment. She speaks again and he sighs in relief. "Thanks. Hey, I've got an answer to your question. In ten years from now, I don't care where I am, I just really hope this will be over."_

_"Me too."_

_"What about you? Where do you see yourself in ten years?"_

_"Honestly? I don't care, as long as you're there."_

 

* * *

 

 

She leans back against her chair, takes a sip of her tea and puffs her chest out.

He slides a finger on the edge of his coffee mug.

The tie he’s wearing feels like a leash around his throat and he’d like to pull at it, or pull at his hair. Free himself of this discomfort.

“How long did you say you’ll stay in town?” she asks, and her voice cracks a little. Her eyes still far from meeting his.

 _Ten years_.

They haven’t spoken or seen each other in ten years.

“Two days,” he replies. “I’ll leave right after the funeral.”

She nods and buries her nose in her cup once again, an awkward silence heaving between the two of them, pulling them apart and yet back closer.

 _This isn’t us_ , he thinks.  _This isn’t what we used to be._

But he has no right to claim back memories that might distraught them both, and he can’t help but blame himself for it.

* * *

 

 

_“You’re leaving?”_

_“Yes. I got offered a job in the space awareness program in D.C.”_

_“When?”_

_“When, what?”_

_“When are you leaving?”_

_“In two weeks.”_

_A silence._

_“Why?”_

_“I…I don’t know. I need to get away from here. Find my way.” A pause. “I need to forget about all of this.”_

_“Even about me?”_

_“I’ll never forget about you.”_

_“I thought we had…something. I thought, once we’d be back, things would be easier.”_

_“We have too much weight on our shoulders.”_

_“You mean you do.” She sighs. “Before we came back, you kissed me. You said we'd do this together.You said you loved me.”_

_“And I do. But it’s not enough.”_

_“It’s not enough.”_

_“We can keep in touch.”_

_“You know we’ll probably just text every now and then for the first month and then stop. That’s how it works.”_

_“It won’t be like that.”_

_“Yes, it will.”_

_Another silence. “You’re eighteen, Pidge. You’re brilliant and a hero. Your life is going to be amazing from now on. You’ll forget soon enough for both of us.”_

_“You never really knew me if you say something like that so easily.”_

_“I’m saying it because I don’t know myself. And I want to. I want to find out who I can be when I’m on my own.”_

_“You’re just making up excuses. You want to live your life alone? Fine by me. I’ll leave you alone.”_

_And she stood up and walked away._

 

* * *

 

  
They sit like this, uncomfortably breathing into the air that separates their bodies.

He forces himself to not stare at her lips, at her hands, at the creases at the sides of her eyes.

He focuses on the flowery pattern of her dress, instead.

It’s a simple gown that barely hangs from her thin, feminine shoulders.

It’s elegant, ordinary and elegant.

Ten years before, she wouldn’t have worn anything like that without feeling her principles slipping away from her palms.

“How’s your brother doing?” he asks, his mouth incredibly dry, despite the coffee he’s drinking. “How’s everyone doing?”

 

“Didn’t Hunk or Keith tell you, already? I thought you and the guys were still in touch.”

She looks at him, for the first time in what feels like ages.

The pain, the hunger, they’re still there, under the teariness of those big, unhappy eyes.

She’s still mad at him; he can tell by the way her hands curl into fists on the surface of the table they’re sharing.

She’s still mad that he ran away.

“We are. We still talk.” _But we don’t talk about you_ , is what he doesn’t say. “Not as often as I’d love to, though.”

“And who’s fault is it?” she teases, poison pouring down her lips.

He rubs at his neck, uncomfortable, caught off guard. It’s an habit that he just couldn’t let go.

“I’m just trying to make conversation," he insists, meaning to be polite, only it comes out cocky and mean.

She shrugs, one of the straps falls off her shoulder, exposing a portion of skin he wishes he’d forgot it even existed.

“Matt’s fine. And so is everyone else.”

She doesn’t even try to be polite and now he’s mad at her, too.

He’s mad that she wasn’t strong enough to get him to stay.

But it doesn’t change a thing.

 

* * *

 

_"I miss Earth."_

_"I know you do." A kiss on he cheek, an innocent one. "We all do."_

_"Hey, Pidge, do you ever think about...going back home?"_

_"All the time."_

_"Me, too. Do you think things have changed down there?"_

_"Definitely. I don't mind changes. As long as peanut butter still tastes the same."_

_He laughs, lungs filling with foreign air. It wouldn't be the same without her._

_And that's how she finds her way to his heart._

 

* * *

  
  
“Last week they brought down Garrison,” she says, out of nowhere.

He peeks at his watch because, for a moment, it seemed as if the time had stopped.

He knows better, though.

Things like this don’t happen, anymore. Not on Earth, at least. 

“Did they, now?”

“Yes. My mum said they’re going to build an art school in its place, or something like that.”

Last time he’s been here, for his brother's wedding, five years ago, he’d drove his Audi Q5 (he’s an Audi Q5 person, now) to the place he’d once called home.

Since the last victorious battle with the Galra, since their return, the building was a wreck of moldy walls and dry creepers. A pure memento of what his life had become since he’d left.

He’d drove for hours, after that. He’d drove along the streets, the very same streets that’d lost their magic, because there’s nothing magical about keeping your feet to the ground.

His heart wouldn’t stop hammering in his chest, the whole time he’d been surrounded by familiarity and memories.

He had to stop his car beside the road a few minutes away from the interstate because his lungs had started to hurt as if he’d drank down a whole can of fuel, followed by a lighted match.

It had also been the last time he’d cried.

“Good. This place could use an art school. Or something like that.”

She chuckles a little and it’s a foreign sound that makes him feel both sad and happy at the same time.

Who is this woman who laughs like this? Who looks at him with so much anger and so much regret?

He hates it.

He hates that they’re talking about everything, talking about nothing.

She taps her fingertips on the side of her cup before reaching for her purse, and for a moment, he thinks she’s about to pull off some cash, pay for her tea and leave.

_Yes, I beg you, leave._

_And, no, I beg you, stay._

She surprises him by fishing a piece of paper from her wallet and placing it in front of his questioning eyes.

It takes him a full minute to realize that what he’s looking at, is a badly trimmed picture.

“A baby?” he asks, and his lips trembles.

“A daughter,” she confirms. “ _My_  daughter.”

A group of students makes its way into the diner.

They’re beautiful, confident, comfortable enough in their uniforms, just the way they once had been.

She turns her head as the young boys take their cue to one of the free tables on their left, observing.

He observes her profile and swallows down a scream, lowering his eyes on the picture once again.

The baby girl rewards the camera with a toothless smile, the shape of her cheekbones impossibly similar to her mother’s.

“Wh-what’s her name?”

“Emma.”

“She’s very pretty.”

“Yes, she is. She’ll turn three next month.”

 _Three_.

He just can’t believe the love of his life had a daughter.

He just can’t believe the love of his life had a daughter, three years ago, and that nobody even bothered telling him.

He just can’t believe the love of his life had a daughter, which would mean she also had a life that didn’t involve him.

He should have expected it, and in some way, he did. It’s what he wanted for her, anyway.

But he can’t stop himself and hates it.

She looks at him as if she remembers, as if she still hasn’t forgotten.

He now hates himself, too.   
  
“The father…?”

“We broke up a couple months after she was born. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Do I know him?”

“No,” she shakes her head, a lock of hair escaping from its pull, brushing her forehead. “you don’t.”

“I bet your parents are happy.”

“Mostly. Matt is not, though. Emma’s took a liking in stealing his things.”

He laughs, but it’s a sad laugh. “I assume you’re still living with your folks, then?”

“Where else should I be living?” She grabs a napkin and gently presses it to her lips. “That’s where I belong.”

 _No, it’s not_ , he thinks.

He hands her back the picture noticing how she carefully avoids their fingers from touching. 

 

* * *

 

_"I screwed up! Big time!"_

_"Lance, calm down. Nobody was harmed deadly and we did it, in the end."_

_"Yes, but at what cost? Keith is injured, Hunk's lion needs repairment and Shiro was about to lose the other arm. I should just go back to where I came from. I'm no good for anyone, here."_

_"Don't say that. Here, breathe with me."_

_He inhales and exhales, deeply. "I'm scared, Pidge."_

_"We all are. There's a war out there, we would be stupid to not be afraid. You feeling better?"_

_"A little. When did you got so mature and rational?"_

_"I've always been this way. You just didn't notice before."_

_But now he does. "Thank you for being here."_

_"For you? Always."_

 

* * *

 

He thought she was the love of his life, once.

After she’d grown up under his eyes, every day a little more. After her pats on his shoulder had gone from warm and comforting to burning and necessary.

He still does, still considers her the one and only person who could save him completely, only now what he feels it's more like a deaf, pulsing pain rather than something that makes the world go 'round.

The first two months together had been a dream not even the most talented of magicians could have dreamed of.

Two months of blown kisses, two months of sharing memories, the hangar of a spaceship, a bed.

Two months of bare skin on bare skin.

But he had expectations, she had a plan to stand up to.

Friendships were put aside, the skin was covered.

She coulnd’t let her family name swallow her up.

He didn’t expect them to grow up apart, he didn’t expect the dream to turn into a nightmare.

 _It’s not just me you’re leaving behind_ , she’d told him, over the phone, over their last phone call, the day he left for Washington.

It wasn’t, in fact.

It was his soul he was sacrificing. It was his heart and his body and his whole being.

It was nothing, it was everything.   
  
“Are you seeing someone?”

“No.”

“Nobody caught your interest?”

The most selfish part of him wants her to answer that no, nobody did, nobody could ever compare to him.

She just shakes her head. "It's not easy dating someone when you're a single mum."

When she speaks again, he’s gulping down half of his coffee.

It tastes bitter on his tongue.

“What about you?”

 “What do you want to know?”

“Are you still working for the government?” she asks, folding and unfolding the napkin between her fingers.

“Yes.”

“Do you like your job?”

“It’s just a job. But yeah, I guess I like it.”

She puckers her lips, her adorable, kissable lips. “Are you with someone?”

It doesn’t surprise him, the easiness whereby her question comes off her mouth with.

She’s never been the jealous type and he’d loved her even more for this.

But, yet, she has a daughter, now.

She has a life, now.

“Not at the moment.”

“I bet they’re all in love with you, up there in D.C.”

“You’d probably lose this bet.”

From their table, loud and clear, one of the boys that have entered earlier, drops a curse word that’d make Keith very proud.

She chews on the inside of her cheeks as a hint of a smile paints on her face.

“What?”

“I was just thinking about…the first time we met. That night on the roof.”

“You mean when I thought you were a guy and we were about to get invaded by aliens?”

She giggles and nods. “It seems like a lifetime ago.”

“It is a lifetime ago,” he agrees. “An  _entire_  life ago.”

* * *

 

_"Don't go back to your room, just yet. Stay here."_

_"We have training in the morning, Lance."_

_"Don't care. I want to sleep with you."_

_"You know better than I do that we're not going to sleep if I stay here. Allura's going to kick our arses if we're late and tired."_

_"Please. I sleep better when you're here. You make the bad thoughts go away."_

_"You sap."_

_"Your sap."_

_"...Fine. I'll stay. But only for a few minutes."_

_"Sure. Now, turn the light off and come back to bed."_

_"You're incredible."_

_"That's why you like me so much, right?"_

_"No." The mattress lowers from her weight. "That's why I_ love _you so much."_

_"Who's the sap, now?"_

_"Shut up and kiss me, you idiot."_

 

* * *

  
Circles, they’re running in circles.

They keep talking, minutes passing.

Sometimes it’s her turn to blush while she asks questions, sometimes it’s him who can’t find the strength to reply back.

They’re careful and smart enough to avoid subjects that might bring the conversation back to a stall.

They ping-pong words back to one another, and it’s easy to forget they’re not a king and his queen, anymore.

“So Shiro keeps proposing to my brother every six weeks and he keeps saying no,” she laughs, putting her empty cup down.

“That’s very cruel of him,” he jokes, with fondness.

“You know Matt. Always going against the rules.”

“Are you going to tell him we’ve met?”

“Should I?”

Her eyes are bright, her cheeks flustered.

The realization hits him, hard and violent.

He’s without a doubt still in love with these flustered cheeks and bright eyes.

He’s without a doubt still in love with the woman who’d taught him how to be whole again.

“Shouldn’t,” he says and for a moment they’re eighteen and twenty again. “But I hope you do.”

 

* * *

_"_ _We have to tell the others."_

_"Have to?"_

_"Yeah, they need to know we...um...got together."_

_"Did we, now? I don't remember discussing it with you. Unless this is your subtle way of asking?"_

_"You caught me. So, what do you say, Pidge? Wanna be my space girlfriend?"_

_"I thought you'd never ask."_

_"We're gonna take over the world, you and I."_

_"I can't wait."_

 

* * *

 

  
After another round of coffee and tea, her phone starts to ring.

He takes his time to stare at her beautiful features without looking indecently close to a stalker, as she speaks to whoever it is on the other side of the phone.

She smiles, pressing her index under her chin, turning his attention to the curve of her perfectly pale neck.

He can’t remember a time when he hadn’t love the way her body seemed to reflect her personality.

She ends the conversation with a run of  _okay okay see you later I said okay bye_.

“Your mum?”

“Shiro. Emma is staying with him for the day. She apparently just repainted his bedroom walls with her crayons.”

“An artist! You should be proud.”

“Impressionism is definitely her path. She’s a bully. Hunk always says Keith’s got a really bad influence on her.”

“I like her already.”

“You’d love her.”

_This is what I’m missing, then._

_This is what I’ll never have,_ he realizes.

Not only love, but family, friendship, a place to come back to. A kid who looks like their mother and acts like their best friends. 

That’s when his heart can’t bare it anymore.

He bends forward, his palm sliding across the table.

“I missed this,” he whispers and he sees her smile fading but he  _just_  can’t stop his mouth. “I missed you.”

“Lance,” she breathes and it sounds like a prayer.

“Pidge,” he says and it sounds just like that.

He watch her skip a breath, fall apart in less than a second before his gaze. “That’s not my name anymore.”

“You’re always gonna be Pidge to me.”

“I…I have to go.”

Her eyes go teary under his gaze. He’s such an asshole, but can't stop himself.

“Please. Don’t," he begs. She starts standing up and he grabs her wrist before she can move from her seat. “Please.”

She parts her lips, the fire in his chest freezing in an instant.

“There’s no point in…” her free hand gestures towards the space between them.

“I’m…” he fumbles, furious with himself. “I thought being away was the right thing to do.”

“It’s been ten years, Lance. Nothing’s changed.”

“That’s not true.”

“What happens when you realize this is not what you want? I’m not going to let you play me again, Lance.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“You weren’t.”

“I know. And I’m paying my price and I'm dying because of it.”

As soon as the words escapes his mouth, he feels relieved but it doesn’t last enough.

“I saw you almost die, once,” she hisses, her eyes so damp with tears he’s almost scared. “You seem pretty alive to me.”

“Please,” he begs, again, because that’s all his mouth manages to say.

_Please don’t move._

_Please don’t leave me._

 “What if I stay? What…what are we even doing, here?”

 _What would this even change?_ , is what she’s actually asking.

“It’s too late for us, Lance. We can’t go back.”

“But we can go forward.”

“No, we can’t.”

The pain in her voice makes him coward, coward till the end.

And, like this, he frees her wrist.

“See you at the funeral,” she breathes, and there’s a lonely tear running down her cheek.

Like this, once again, once for all, he lets her go.

 

**Author's Note:**

> In case you're wondering, the funeral they're attending is mine. I died while writing this. *salutes you all from hell because that's where I ended up being*
> 
>  
> 
> Come cry with me on Tumblr dot com


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